


The Promises of Children

by EscapeArtist13



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: AU, Childhood Sweethearts, Crack, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Teenlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-06
Updated: 2015-09-06
Packaged: 2018-04-19 08:50:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4740260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EscapeArtist13/pseuds/EscapeArtist13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stop worrying. You’re being stupid, he told himself firmly.<br/>And he was being stupid. This was Sherlock. Sherlock: his best friend in the entire world. </p>
<p>AKA: Sherlock's power's of memorization are far greater than the average five-year-old's</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Promises of Children

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [A Study in Bwankets](https://archiveofourown.org/works/377038) by [lavvyan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavvyan/pseuds/lavvyan). 



> Hello there!  
> So, it's been ages since I last posted anything. I have all these ideas bouncing around in my head but then life grabs me again in its inescapable talons and they all fall by the wayside. But today I was re-reading "A Study in Bwankets" by lavvyan (which is pretty much the most adorable thing in the universe and has art and if you haven't read it go do so right now!!! though you don't really need to for this to make sense) and this fic just kind of smacked me in the face and demanded to be written on the spot. Anyway, it is now 4:30 in the morning and I'm far too lazy to proofread any more carefully than I have (and I am also beta-less), so please be nice to me and forgive the probably myriad mistakes and run-on sentences.
> 
> yeah, ok. enjoy!
> 
> *Much to my own dismay, neither Sherlock nor the characters contain therein belong to me. I only get to borrow them on strange field-trips through my odd and sleep-deprived psyche.

The Promises of Children

 

John took a deep breath and held it in. He couldn’t remember ever having been this nervous before in his life. Not even before his high school graduation a few months ago, or at his interview at Barts, or even before telling his family about his plans to join the military as an army doctor.

            He let out the breath he’d been holding.

_Stop worrying. You’re being stupid_ , he told himself firmly.

 

And he was being stupid. This was _Sherlock_. Sherlock: his best friend in the entire world. Who’d been the most constant presence in his life outside of his mother since they were just toddlers clutching their plush toys — through all the terrible haircuts and awkward growth spurts and the scrapes that got them grounded, and even that time Sherlock blew up the science lab in eighth grade and they threatened to throw him out of school. He was the one thing John was certain of, the only one he needed, and the person John loved more than anything else in the universe.

            He knew their parents had been surprised when they stayed together; after all, what child hasn’t said they wanted to marry their best friend at some point in their lives, but it never really happened. Childhood best friends grew apart, or they met other people and started dating. But John and Sherlock were different. Sherlock barely acknowledged anyone else’s existence outside of when he needed something, and John: well, John had always known, with a soul-deep certainty that he’d never really been able to explain to anyone, that Sherlock was the one. Sherlock was different. He was exciting, and interesting, and beautiful, nothing at all like anyone else John had or would ever meet again. And the most wonderful, inexplicable thing in the world to John was that Sherlock wanted him too.

            For all the cold facade Sherlock had erected to protect himself from a world that didn’t understand him and was in turns frightened and angered by his unconventional behavior, he had never shut John out. John knew him like no one else did. He knew his loneliness and the pain he had felt when people rejected him just for being himself before he learned to shut them out and ignore everyone. He knew how much he missed his brother, and how it had hurt him when he left for college and came back different, with his suits and secrets and so little time to spend with his little brother. John had held Sherlock through everything, and told him time and again that he was _brilliant_ and _fantastic_ and _wonderful_ , and in return Sherlock had never let him doubt that he thought John was too. That he loved him too.

            Their relationship had evolved from the tenuous blossom of childhood love with all the smoothness and grace of uncontested inevitability.

            So really, there was absolutely nothing to worry about, and John was being stupid, and he should just calm down because everything was going to be just fine. In theory. Easier said than done, though. It felt like his heart was going to pound through his ribcage.

            He wrapped his hand nervously around the slight bulge in his pocket once more, assuring himself that it was still in place. He’d probably have felt safer if it had still been protected inside of it’s box, but Sherlock would have known what was going on in an instant if he’d seen that. As it was, he probably already knew something was up, just by the way John had asked him to meet him. He was going to do it at their old hiding place- a hollowed out old oak tree on the grounds where they used to hide when they were still little enough to both fit. It was _their_ place, and it had felt right to do this here.

            John heard a crunch behind him and froze in a last moment of panic _Oh god, I can’t do this, what if he says no?_ before a voice, surprisingly rich and deep for its age, said “John”, and the tension fell out of his shoulders. Because this was _Sherlock._ He was safe.

            John turned around and looked into the clear gray eyes of his boyfriend. Sherlock was in the midst of another growth spurt that would probably leave him towering over John, but for now he could look his love straight in the eyes. Eyes that were currently looking at him with some concern.

           

“John? What’s wrong? Your text just said to meet you here… are you alright?”, Sherlock said, taking in John’s posture; unsure, and recently worried almost to the point of panicking, but seemingly recovering rapidly.

            John smiled at him.

           

“I’m fine, Sherlock, I just… wanted to ask you something. Honestly I’m kind of surprised you haven’t guessed already…”

           

Sherlock wracked his brains for something that John would need to ask him about and frowned as he drew a blank. It was obviously something fairly important, judging by the way John was behaving, but he honestly couldn’t think of anything that important that they hadn’t already discussed.

           

“Why don’t you just ask, then?”, he snapped irritably, annoyed by his lack of success, but John only smiled indulgently at his tone.

           

“Alright, alright, keep your shirt on”, he took one final deep breath and started before Sherlock had the chance to get even more annoyed.

           

“Look, Sherlock”, he began, “We’ve been together for as long as I can remember. You are my best friend, and my favorite person in existance, and I’m pretty sure, even if you think that it’s a ridiculous idea made up by romantic idiots, that you’re my soulmate. And I know that we’re too young, and everyone’s gonna think we’re crazy, but, well, we’re both eighteen now, and we know what we feel, and when have we ever really cared about what people think about us anyway? So, anyway… what I’m trying to say is… well, I love you. “ John’s shaky hands fumbled as he pulled it out, but he managed not to drop the ring he had painstakingly saved up for the last three years to buy, and held it out to Sherlock.

 

“Sherlock, will you marry me?”

           

            For a long moment Sherlock just stared at the ring in John’s hand with a look of utter confusion, and John could feel the sharp edges of panic starting close in on him again. Then Sherlock looked up to meet his eyes and said, slowly;

           

“But, John… we’re already engaged.”

           

            John’s brain promptly crashed like a shoddy windows application.

 

            “…What?” he choked out when his vocal functions were finally returned to him. “…When did we get engaged?”

 

            “I asked you ages ago, John, honestly, don’t you remember?” Sherlock said, looking more than a bit put out. “Mummy had invited those gits from school to my fifth birthday party, and they were acting like utter bastards to me, so you took my hand and we ran out here and hid in the hollow of the tree. I looked at you and you told me that you didn’t care what anyone else thought, because they were all idiots and you thought I was the most brilliant person in the world, and I asked you to marry me. You said that you would like to, but you didn’t think your mum would let you because we were too little. So you said we should get “financed” (by which I’m fairly certain you meant to say _affianced)_ , and then get married when we were older and our mothers would let us. And then we swore an oath to be together for the rest of our lives. So while I’m glad you’ve decided to renew the strength of our vows, John, I rather fail to see the point of this, since I’d thought the matter to be quite closed and taken care of… oh, what is it now?!”

 

            Because John was laughing. He’d tried to hold it in at first, when he saw the serious expression on Sherlock’s face, but as he went on the urge grew until John couldn’t hold back any longer. He bent half forward as his shoulders shook in a fit of mirth that only threatened to get worse when he saw Sherlock’s look of consternation, but he made an effort to rein himself in before gently hooking arms around Sherlock’s waist and drawing him close.

 

            “Sorry, love” said, pressing a kiss to Sherlock’s now pouting lips, “It’s not you, it’s just,” John giggled again, “Do you know how nervous I was? The whole time I kept getting all worked up, panicking about what I’d do if you said no, and if I was about to ruin our relationship, and all that time” John’s shoulders shook again with repressed laughter, “We were already engaged!” And John dissolved into fits of giggles once more.

 

            Sherlock still looked annoyed, but his eyes were softening. “I suppose I should have taken into account the fact that the average five-year-old’s powers of memorization are not on par with my own, but honestly, John; you’d think you’d remember the day of your own engagement!”

            John hugged his fiancé close and kissed the frown from his forehead. “You’re right, and I’m sorry I forgot, Sherlock. But never doubt that I’ve only ever wanted to be with you, forever. Will you wear the ring anyway? I saved up for three years to get it for you, you know. Got it engraved and everything.”

            “With what?”, Sherlock asked, turning so he was more firmly nested with John’s arms holding him securely from the back.

            “Like you can’t guess”, said John, pressing the simple gold band into his palm, and Sherlock leaned back into the comforting warmth behind him as he read the text inscribed along the inside rim.

 

_JW + SH_ _∞_


End file.
